"You've ruined me--that's what you've done. Meat and drink to you, I'll wager! Ruined me worse than ever my uncle did. I could have stood up against that. I did. I'd pretty well got over the pinch of it. Though 'twas far more to me than anybody, I took it better than anybody, and my own mother will tell you so. But why? Because I thought I'd got you safe enough and nothing else mattered. I never thought this misfortune meant that you'd give me the slip. If any man had hinted such a thing, I'd have knocked his teeth down his throat. But I was wrong as usual." "You gave me credit for being a fool as usual." "Never that, Cora. I always knew very well you were clever, but I thought you were something more. You crafty things--all of you! And now--what? 'Twill be said I've jilted another girl--not that the only woman I ever honestly worshipped with all my heart have jilted me." "No need to use ugly, silly words about it. All that will be said by sensible people is that we've both seen reason and cut our coats according to our cloth. The people will only say you've got more wits than they thought. Let it be understood we were of the same mind, and so we both get a bit of credit for sense." "Never!" he burst out passionately. "You're a hard-hearted, cruel devil. You know where the fault is and who's to blame. You think of nought but your own blasted comfort and pleasure, and you never cared no more for me than you cared for my cousin before me. But I'll not hang myself--be sure of that!" She shrugged her shoulders. "You might do worse, all the same," she said. "For you're only cumbering the earth that I can see." Thereupon he swore wild oaths and rushed off and left her on the hillside alone. When he was gone she went her own way, but not to Undershaugh. By deep lanes and field-paths familiar to her she took a long walk, and at the end of it found herself at Coldstone Farm, the abode of Mr. Timothy Waite. He was from home, and she asked for pen and paper that she might leave a note for him. Her communication was short, and when she had written it and sealed it with exceeding care, she set off again for home. Anon Mr. Waite opened it and was much disappointed at the length. But Cora's matter atoned for this shortcoming. "Have settled with N.B. Yours, C." And elsewhere, while she retraced her way from Coldstone, the discarded lover came to a wild conclusion with himself. He steadied his steps, stood at the Moor edge in two minds, then turned and set off for Hawk House. This blow had staggered him, had even awakened him from the fatuous dream in which he passed his days. He had a vague idea that Humphrey might be glad to know of this broken engagement; that it might even put his uncle into a more amiable temper. Ned had been advised by Rupert to see Mr. Baskerville; but had declined to do so until the present time. At Hawk House Mrs. Hacker met him and made no effort to hide astonishment.